The Otherworld

Many souls flew out of the dagger. Guided by some force, they drifted toward the Death God's palace.

Then Hanzab began drawing one strange pattern after another on the ground. He circled along the paths of those patterns before finally walking to the platform opposite the Nether Palace, on this side of the broken bridge. A war drum stood on the platform. Muttering mysterious ritual chants, Hanzab beat the drum and completed the final step of the ceremony.

The solemn atmosphere outside the Nether Palace was finally broken by a smiling voice. "The gift is very nice. Come in, come in!"

Bwonsamdi's voice lingered by his ears. Nathanos watched Hanzab snatch up the dagger and run madly toward the Nether Palace, muttering to him as he went, "Hurry and follow me, outsider. If Bwonsamdi waits too long, he'll lose his temper."

It was the first time Nathanos had seen someone so eager to meet the Death God. How ridiculous, he thought mockingly. He followed after him. As they approached, the cold candlesticks beside the broken bridge ignited with ghostly blue flames.

The distance was not far, but the closer he came to the palace, the more souls Nathanos could sense. Most of them were Trolls.

The interior of the Nether Palace was not spacious. It was even somewhat cramped. A war drum stood on a small platform to the left. The Witherer surveyed the dwelling of the Death Loa. He did not see the deity, but he did see Hanzab kneeling on the ground before an empty patch of space.

Just as Nathanos was about to call out the Death God's name, a bolt of lightning raised a puff of white smoke. Bwonsamdi appeared before Nathanos, his entire body floating in the air.

"Hello, Hanzab. Have you come to repay